While I’m no stranger to moving, we haven’t actually done it that much, relatively. This is the first time we will have multiple kids to entertain for a long road trip. From Colorado to California we had one toddler, which was pretty easy. We took our time, took lots of stops ... and really, 2 on one parenting seems like a breeze now looking back. We did have the excitement of 2 cats and a dog for a total of 22 hours in the car, and my car did get broken into in Las Vegas. But, all in all, it was pretty easy to entertain and occupy our only child.
California to Texas wasn’t necessarily easy; my mom and I flew with 2 babies under 12 months and Austin had to occupy the oldest minion along with our one cat and dog. But, at that point only one of the kids had emotional ties to our old home and occupying 2 babies on a plane for 6 hours sounds a lot easier than 2 toddlers in a car for 16.
So, all that is to say, I’m entering new territory for us and I’ll welcome any tips and tricks. It’s shaping up to look like I’ll have an empty house with 3 kids for 2 weeks by myself before we start the road trip. When we leave here William will have just closed out a semester at the school he hoped to never leave and he will have just said bye to his best friends. Charles and Loretta will have said bye to what has essentially been like a Third parent when we leave our nanny, and while they may not grasp the weight of that I will and there won’t be a shortage of tears. I’m hoping to make it a fun road trip, despite all of that, and I’d like to make it to the other side without dumping a kid on the roadside. :) We haven’t nailed down arrangements entirely, but it looks like I’ll have the kids and dog for the first 8 hours, then we’ll meet Austin halfway and he’ll take a kid (or 3) in his truck the rest of the way.
I have some ideas to help make it easier and more enjoyable for everyone, but I’d welcome any more anyone may have! I know many moms and dads have navigated tougher transitions with grace and ease, so I’m hoping you’re willing to share your expertise :) I’ve gotten a few great suggestions already and im hoping to incorporate as much as I can! When it comes to getting them excited and easing the pain in their hearts, I can’t do too much. So, flood my phone/email with ideas and one day I’ll pay it forward.
Oct 15, 2017
Beauty in Letting Go
Before William was born I was moderately into crafts. By "moderately" I mean I liked crafts, but I was never at the skill or commitment level to call myself a "crafter". I did have a big collection of scrapbook supplies, paper, stickers, some sewing supplies and other misc items I'd picked up over the years.
In Colorado we had a room and desk devoted to my sewing and scrapbooking. In California we had a nook under the stairs devoted to it, but it quickly became the craft closet I visited once a month. Since we've been here? My supplies have been sitting in the footlocker and boxes they were packed in, when we moved. Every time I walked past them in the garage I cringed. The first feeling I'd get was one of embarrassment and failure as I felt I was managing my time so poorly that I didn't even have time for things I used to enjoy. Then I'd get jealous of my past self, and then I'd get resentful of my new life.
Don't misread that. I love my life. I am beyond blessed. I love my kids.
But, my kids have taken over my life. "Free" time is spent reading and fingerpainting, sweeping up endless sand and playing Simon Says on the trampoline. "Me" time is spent cleaning the areas I can never clean with kids on my ankles, taking baths to unwind from the constant tugs on my arms, and (recently) playing my flute. I don't have hours to hide away in a closet and scrapbook or do other crafts. I wouldn't trade my kids for anything in this world, but that doesn't change the fact that I did love that part of my old life and when I see reminders of it I get a little jealous. I know this is a season and I know that one day, far too soon, I'll have all the time in the world and wish I just had someone begging me to read the chicken book again. But, until that time comes, the boxes of craft supplies were just building unnecessary resentment. So, when we found out we'd be moving and we'd be close to going over our weight allotment, I knew it was time to let some of that go.
I finally brought in my boxes of craft supplies from the garage and sorted through them. I found a box full of cards I sent Austin in Afghanistan (man I was a good and loving wife), I found a box full of cards I received from friends during that same time (MAN I have the most amazing friends!!!) I found boxes of old pictures, preschool artwork, baby sonograms (sorry Loretta...third child blues...) and lots of other great memories. I ended up with "trash", "sell" and "keep" piles - and they were about even! I had a ton of great supplies and I wanted them to go to someone who would really use and love them, so I decided to list the entire tub for $20 on facebook marketplace. It was hard for me to do initially, continuing to remind myself "yeah but maybe one day..." but I stuck to my guns. I knew if I hadn't touched it in 2.5 years I probably wasn't going to anytime soon, and there may be someone who would.
The best thing happened: a girl from my small group at church messaged me and said she'd love to take it off my hands. She is a young army wife who has a deployed husband and has her own etsy type craft shop. She said she had been wanting to get into scrapbooking so this was perfect for her. When she came to pick it up, she nearly cried when she saw how much was included. It was such a gift to be able to know not only will they be used, but someone is being blessed by them. Boxes of stuff that brought me such agony is now bringing someone else such joy. And now I know that when my obligations ease up, be that in 5 years of 25, I will be free to pave a path with new interests or rediscover the old. There really is beauty in letting go.
In Colorado we had a room and desk devoted to my sewing and scrapbooking. In California we had a nook under the stairs devoted to it, but it quickly became the craft closet I visited once a month. Since we've been here? My supplies have been sitting in the footlocker and boxes they were packed in, when we moved. Every time I walked past them in the garage I cringed. The first feeling I'd get was one of embarrassment and failure as I felt I was managing my time so poorly that I didn't even have time for things I used to enjoy. Then I'd get jealous of my past self, and then I'd get resentful of my new life.
Don't misread that. I love my life. I am beyond blessed. I love my kids.
But, my kids have taken over my life. "Free" time is spent reading and fingerpainting, sweeping up endless sand and playing Simon Says on the trampoline. "Me" time is spent cleaning the areas I can never clean with kids on my ankles, taking baths to unwind from the constant tugs on my arms, and (recently) playing my flute. I don't have hours to hide away in a closet and scrapbook or do other crafts. I wouldn't trade my kids for anything in this world, but that doesn't change the fact that I did love that part of my old life and when I see reminders of it I get a little jealous. I know this is a season and I know that one day, far too soon, I'll have all the time in the world and wish I just had someone begging me to read the chicken book again. But, until that time comes, the boxes of craft supplies were just building unnecessary resentment. So, when we found out we'd be moving and we'd be close to going over our weight allotment, I knew it was time to let some of that go.
I finally brought in my boxes of craft supplies from the garage and sorted through them. I found a box full of cards I sent Austin in Afghanistan (man I was a good and loving wife), I found a box full of cards I received from friends during that same time (MAN I have the most amazing friends!!!) I found boxes of old pictures, preschool artwork, baby sonograms (sorry Loretta...third child blues...) and lots of other great memories. I ended up with "trash", "sell" and "keep" piles - and they were about even! I had a ton of great supplies and I wanted them to go to someone who would really use and love them, so I decided to list the entire tub for $20 on facebook marketplace. It was hard for me to do initially, continuing to remind myself "yeah but maybe one day..." but I stuck to my guns. I knew if I hadn't touched it in 2.5 years I probably wasn't going to anytime soon, and there may be someone who would.
The best thing happened: a girl from my small group at church messaged me and said she'd love to take it off my hands. She is a young army wife who has a deployed husband and has her own etsy type craft shop. She said she had been wanting to get into scrapbooking so this was perfect for her. When she came to pick it up, she nearly cried when she saw how much was included. It was such a gift to be able to know not only will they be used, but someone is being blessed by them. Boxes of stuff that brought me such agony is now bringing someone else such joy. And now I know that when my obligations ease up, be that in 5 years of 25, I will be free to pave a path with new interests or rediscover the old. There really is beauty in letting go.
Sep 19, 2017
Playing to a Different Tune
When all is said and done, I think one of the best things to come out of our 2.5 years in Killeen will be my reintroduction to my flute. Before this summer I hadn't played (for longer than maybe 10 minutes) since high school. I recently had the opportunity to audition for a local volunteer symphony. I only had about a week to practice before my audition and I hadn't looked at sheet music in 15 years, so I wasn't overly confident I'd even make it through a song. I was surprised to find that I was actually pretty good. Obviously not where I was once, but, all things considered, I was very impressed at how much I retained after such a long drought. I practiced every day for that week and I got fairly confident on the pieces for the audition. I learned they had auditioned 32 people o different instruments already and only 5 made it, so I was realistic about the possibility of not making it.
I was honestly blown away by my own performance and the feedback during my audition. The conductor (who is a famous flutist himself! good thing I didn't know that before) was overflowing with compliments. He complimented my music education and asked where I went to school. When I told him the name of my band director and school district he said "ah yes, now it makes sense". Naturally I had to pass that compliment along, so I sent a message to my former band director to tell him the story. Again, I was blown away by his response. "I'm glad you're playing again, you're a very talented musician and that doesn't go away".
Me? A talented musician? That really made me take a step back and think for a minute. I spent 3 years playing piano and then 7 years playing flute and piccolo. Never in those 10 years would I have said I was a talented musician. I don't think I would have even said I was "good". I spent those years, especially the last 4, so focused on trying to be perfect and trying to be the best that I completely missed what I was doing. A classmate was always ahead of me for flute first chair, and when I thought maybe I could pass her up someone 2 years younger came in and blew us all out of the water. (she's phenomenal, btw, can't blame us for being left in her dust) When I switched to piccolo I thought for sure I'd be the best in the district, but then a flute player at the high school down the road switched to piccolo and she was always a few steps ahead. I could never catch Amanda on flute and I could never catch Amie on piccolo. I wasn't the best and that's all I ever saw.
Being in band in high school was one of the best decisions I made in those years. I had a director and mentor who cared about me as a person and helped me through very difficult years. I developed leadership skills as the drum major (read: I like to boss people around). I made friends who made a lasting impact on my life, some of which are still my close friends today. I stayed out of trouble as I stayed busy, and I really believe music helps education. But, despite all of those things I never truly felt good enough because my measure of success was beating those 2 people.
Here's a life lesson it's taken me 30+ years to even begin to learn: being perfect is not what it's about. What if I had beaten Amie to be the best in district our senior year? I would have gone on to find there was someone else better in the state. I would have been so beaten up about not beating her that I probably wouldn't have allowed myself to celebrate the progress, just like I didn't allow myself to celebrate my progress over my 7 years of playing. Lesson: Progress not Perfection.
I am so excited to be a part of the symphony. I am stretching myself, pushing myself, and loving making music again. The best part so far has been the change in perspective. I am celebrating progress each week and enjoying listening to myself improve. 15 years ago all I heard were mistakes. Now, when I listen to myself, I hear beautiful music.
I was honestly blown away by my own performance and the feedback during my audition. The conductor (who is a famous flutist himself! good thing I didn't know that before) was overflowing with compliments. He complimented my music education and asked where I went to school. When I told him the name of my band director and school district he said "ah yes, now it makes sense". Naturally I had to pass that compliment along, so I sent a message to my former band director to tell him the story. Again, I was blown away by his response. "I'm glad you're playing again, you're a very talented musician and that doesn't go away".
Me? A talented musician? That really made me take a step back and think for a minute. I spent 3 years playing piano and then 7 years playing flute and piccolo. Never in those 10 years would I have said I was a talented musician. I don't think I would have even said I was "good". I spent those years, especially the last 4, so focused on trying to be perfect and trying to be the best that I completely missed what I was doing. A classmate was always ahead of me for flute first chair, and when I thought maybe I could pass her up someone 2 years younger came in and blew us all out of the water. (she's phenomenal, btw, can't blame us for being left in her dust) When I switched to piccolo I thought for sure I'd be the best in the district, but then a flute player at the high school down the road switched to piccolo and she was always a few steps ahead. I could never catch Amanda on flute and I could never catch Amie on piccolo. I wasn't the best and that's all I ever saw.
Being in band in high school was one of the best decisions I made in those years. I had a director and mentor who cared about me as a person and helped me through very difficult years. I developed leadership skills as the drum major (read: I like to boss people around). I made friends who made a lasting impact on my life, some of which are still my close friends today. I stayed out of trouble as I stayed busy, and I really believe music helps education. But, despite all of those things I never truly felt good enough because my measure of success was beating those 2 people.
Here's a life lesson it's taken me 30+ years to even begin to learn: being perfect is not what it's about. What if I had beaten Amie to be the best in district our senior year? I would have gone on to find there was someone else better in the state. I would have been so beaten up about not beating her that I probably wouldn't have allowed myself to celebrate the progress, just like I didn't allow myself to celebrate my progress over my 7 years of playing. Lesson: Progress not Perfection.
I am so excited to be a part of the symphony. I am stretching myself, pushing myself, and loving making music again. The best part so far has been the change in perspective. I am celebrating progress each week and enjoying listening to myself improve. 15 years ago all I heard were mistakes. Now, when I listen to myself, I hear beautiful music.
Sep 11, 2017
On The Road Again
The fog of having back to back babies started lifting somewhere around Loretta's second birthday, and this summer I actually spent some time enjoying rediscovering things I'm interested in. I started doodling with hand lettering and making signs with watercolors, I started looking at patterns for a quilt to make for Charles (finally), and I even got out my flute and joined a symphony (more on that to come for sure). I was really starting to do more than just survive the days.
It would only make sense that Big Army would choose that moment to reach down and stir things up. We found out at the end of the summer that we will be moving sooner than originally assumed! There are never promises or guarantees, we just always assumed we'd be here 3 years. To me, that meant it'd line up perfectly with the end of second grade and we'd pack up and move out sometime around June 2018. But, that's what I get for assuming or even just hoping for a seamless transition :) Instead, we'll be moving in December! Less than 100 days from now! 13 more weekends! Who's counting?
The exciting part, for us, is that we are going to Fort Gordon, GA which is 2 hours from some of Austin's extended family and 2 hours from my brother and his family. Icing on the cake - my brother and his wife are expecting a baby boy right around the time we should arrive! Baaaaaaaaaaby! We'll also be reasonably close to my family in Illinois and Austin's parents in Florida. We are ecstatic to be so close to family. Location, location, location.
In rediscovering my old interests, I had been looking for a segue back into the blog world and I think I may have found it. I should have PLENTY of material to get the creative writing juices flowing over the next few months and hopefully build some habits to get back into it. I'm hoping I can document some of the insanely hilarious and crazy things the kids do for future memory's sake. If nothing else, I'll keep the move documented and organized in my Moving Monday posts. I'm pretty sure I did the same back in 2012 and intended to in 2015 though I probably fell short. So, stay tuned - or don't. I don't expect this will be the most riveting thing you'll read, but hey - everyone needs something to do while they sit in line at the pharmacy, right?
Happy trails!
It would only make sense that Big Army would choose that moment to reach down and stir things up. We found out at the end of the summer that we will be moving sooner than originally assumed! There are never promises or guarantees, we just always assumed we'd be here 3 years. To me, that meant it'd line up perfectly with the end of second grade and we'd pack up and move out sometime around June 2018. But, that's what I get for assuming or even just hoping for a seamless transition :) Instead, we'll be moving in December! Less than 100 days from now! 13 more weekends! Who's counting?
The exciting part, for us, is that we are going to Fort Gordon, GA which is 2 hours from some of Austin's extended family and 2 hours from my brother and his family. Icing on the cake - my brother and his wife are expecting a baby boy right around the time we should arrive! Baaaaaaaaaaby! We'll also be reasonably close to my family in Illinois and Austin's parents in Florida. We are ecstatic to be so close to family. Location, location, location.
In rediscovering my old interests, I had been looking for a segue back into the blog world and I think I may have found it. I should have PLENTY of material to get the creative writing juices flowing over the next few months and hopefully build some habits to get back into it. I'm hoping I can document some of the insanely hilarious and crazy things the kids do for future memory's sake. If nothing else, I'll keep the move documented and organized in my Moving Monday posts. I'm pretty sure I did the same back in 2012 and intended to in 2015 though I probably fell short. So, stay tuned - or don't. I don't expect this will be the most riveting thing you'll read, but hey - everyone needs something to do while they sit in line at the pharmacy, right?
Happy trails!
Jul 7, 2016
6 Month Update
Back in January I wrote about going on a quest to re-find myself. Here is a clip:
I want to blog. I want to exercise. I want to be a thoughtful friend. I want to be a lot of the things I used to be.
And so, this year I plan to find those things. I may not (read: will not) have a craft room that I get to play in every day. I may not have the amazing gym membership I did 5 years ago, or get the amazing workouts 6 days a week I was fortunate to have. I may not be able to be everything I wish I could be, but at least I can find where this new me fits amidst the shuffle and work. I'm on a quest to find me, and in the meantime I hope to bring this little blog along for the ride! Should be fun!
So, 6 months in I decided I should take a look at how I've done.
First up: I want to blog.
Well, clearly that one hasn't gone well. I did manage to get a handful of posts in for a few months, but May went by without even a thought - and June had just barely more than that. I wish that weren't the case. I have trouble sometimes thinking of what to write, but mostly I just don't devote my time at the computer to that. It's still - always - a yearning I have. And I refuse to give up. But, on my quest, this piece has yet to be found.
Next: I want to exercise.
I'm happy to note that despite many bumps and bruises, I have been able to work on this one. I worked out most of January until a neck injury/issue came up and I could hardly stand to even move. I found out I have cervical stenosis (I can't decide if that does or does not deserve a post in itself) and it had me pretty immobile for a few weeks. But, thanks to amazing physical therapy, I was back to working out in March. I worked out the entire month of March - like, at least 5 days per week. I felt really good. April came and the final push of tax season took priority over all else. Seems to be that way every year huh? Its like - despite any amount of planning, I just have to write off the month of April or something. I slowly picked it back up after April 15 and through the end of May I was back to regular exercise. June didn't go great between Austin being gone, weekend trips every weekend, and other things. But I've been back at it this month, yet again. The point here is - I may not be able to consistently workout 6 days/week for months and months on end. But, I am still working at it. I am still doing my best and when I workout I feel better about everything. It really is the best drug. I still think about my trainer in Colorado, my bikini I wore on our family trip, and the awesome muscles I had in my back. I think about them often. Maybe one day I'll be back there, and maybe I won't. But I know I'm better for the effort and I am glad I am sticking with this despite the distractions.
Third: I want to be a thoughtful friend.
This is a hard area for me. I love serving other people. I love serving friends. I love sending notes in the mail, doing things out of the blue or being as helpful as I can to my friends. Problem: I don't have many local friends. It's been a challenge to try to make connections with 3 kids and all else, but I do think I've been able to be thoughtful to my long distance friends. Or I've made efforts - I guess I can't speak for the delivery of that :) I am definitely more conscious of it, and I enjoy when I make efforts towards this goal. I'm sure it's more of a journey than a destination.
And perhaps the most fun for me is that I found a (very dorky, almost not-admittable) hobby. I don't have extended periods of time to devote to hobbies. In the past, I enjoyed making quilts, working on scrapbooks, reading books...but I don't have long stretches of time and some of those projects are hard to pick up and put down. However, I did discover bullet journaling, May Designs notebooks (I believe I already professed my love here), lettering samples on pinterest, Foxy Fix traveler's notebooks, and a love for light journaling. Wow. I can't believe I gave that many details. As I would expect, I don't have the most beautiful or detailed journals (like the groups I stalk on facebook) but not only is a fun little outlet for creativity and to be in my own world for a minute, it helps keep me organized and on top of things. It also can be done for 5 minutes at a time with no issue, which is the perfect hobby for me.
I'm glad I sat down to write this post. When I was browsing my previous posts I saw the title "on a quest for me" and my heart sank, thinking I had wasted the last 6 months and not even started on my quest. But, I realize I have! That's huge for this season where I feel like I just stand still all the time. Work has been harder than ever in my life, and summer has been incredibly stressful. It helps to be able to see that in the midst of that, I've still been gaining some ground on me.
So, 6 months in I decided I should take a look at how I've done.
First up: I want to blog.
Well, clearly that one hasn't gone well. I did manage to get a handful of posts in for a few months, but May went by without even a thought - and June had just barely more than that. I wish that weren't the case. I have trouble sometimes thinking of what to write, but mostly I just don't devote my time at the computer to that. It's still - always - a yearning I have. And I refuse to give up. But, on my quest, this piece has yet to be found.
Next: I want to exercise.
I'm happy to note that despite many bumps and bruises, I have been able to work on this one. I worked out most of January until a neck injury/issue came up and I could hardly stand to even move. I found out I have cervical stenosis (I can't decide if that does or does not deserve a post in itself) and it had me pretty immobile for a few weeks. But, thanks to amazing physical therapy, I was back to working out in March. I worked out the entire month of March - like, at least 5 days per week. I felt really good. April came and the final push of tax season took priority over all else. Seems to be that way every year huh? Its like - despite any amount of planning, I just have to write off the month of April or something. I slowly picked it back up after April 15 and through the end of May I was back to regular exercise. June didn't go great between Austin being gone, weekend trips every weekend, and other things. But I've been back at it this month, yet again. The point here is - I may not be able to consistently workout 6 days/week for months and months on end. But, I am still working at it. I am still doing my best and when I workout I feel better about everything. It really is the best drug. I still think about my trainer in Colorado, my bikini I wore on our family trip, and the awesome muscles I had in my back. I think about them often. Maybe one day I'll be back there, and maybe I won't. But I know I'm better for the effort and I am glad I am sticking with this despite the distractions.
Third: I want to be a thoughtful friend.
This is a hard area for me. I love serving other people. I love serving friends. I love sending notes in the mail, doing things out of the blue or being as helpful as I can to my friends. Problem: I don't have many local friends. It's been a challenge to try to make connections with 3 kids and all else, but I do think I've been able to be thoughtful to my long distance friends. Or I've made efforts - I guess I can't speak for the delivery of that :) I am definitely more conscious of it, and I enjoy when I make efforts towards this goal. I'm sure it's more of a journey than a destination.
And perhaps the most fun for me is that I found a (very dorky, almost not-admittable) hobby. I don't have extended periods of time to devote to hobbies. In the past, I enjoyed making quilts, working on scrapbooks, reading books...but I don't have long stretches of time and some of those projects are hard to pick up and put down. However, I did discover bullet journaling, May Designs notebooks (I believe I already professed my love here), lettering samples on pinterest, Foxy Fix traveler's notebooks, and a love for light journaling. Wow. I can't believe I gave that many details. As I would expect, I don't have the most beautiful or detailed journals (like the groups I stalk on facebook) but not only is a fun little outlet for creativity and to be in my own world for a minute, it helps keep me organized and on top of things. It also can be done for 5 minutes at a time with no issue, which is the perfect hobby for me.
I'm glad I sat down to write this post. When I was browsing my previous posts I saw the title "on a quest for me" and my heart sank, thinking I had wasted the last 6 months and not even started on my quest. But, I realize I have! That's huge for this season where I feel like I just stand still all the time. Work has been harder than ever in my life, and summer has been incredibly stressful. It helps to be able to see that in the midst of that, I've still been gaining some ground on me.
Jun 29, 2016
Isaiah 58:10
I always like to look back and see all of the connecting dots and what leads me to various places. There are so many small incidents that seem insignificant in life, and then when you go back and replay it you can see how it all worked together to get you where you are.
When I was in Africa in January my roommate, Kristen, and I spent a lot of time sitting in our room just talking because we weren't allowed to leave. Of course we were disappointed in the change in schedule, confused and concerned with the recent events, but we were good friends before she moved to Maryland and it was really fun to spend time just catching up and talking about life. One of the things we talked about was the book Hope Rising, which we were all to read before our trip. The book discusses how we, as consumers, have the power to end poverty through conscious Purchases through fair trade avenues. I asked Kristen if she had ever heard of Noonday, which she hadn't. I didn't know much about the company, I just knew I had heard of noonday a few years back and I browsed the website occasionally but hadn't ever made a purchase. I explained that the company buys handmade accessories from artisans in third world countries and pays them a fair wage in order to empower them to grow their communities. I explained that it is a direct sales business, relying on ambassadors to promote sales. Kristen was immediately intrigued and said she'd pray about it when she got home.
A few days later I was looking through some notebooks of mine and realized that the notebook I had given to Kristen for our trip actually benefitted noonday. I have a slight obsession with maybooks (www.maydesigns.com - check it out - swoon) and anytime I can catch a sale I think about who may need a new book. I ordered 2 notebooks with 'Burkina Faso 2016' on the covers and I let Kristen pick which she liked. What I hadn't really noticed at the time was that one of the notebooks was a design which partnered with noonday and a portion of the proceeds went to noonday. Kristen just so happened to pick that one. When I texted her to tell her, she told me she had turned the notebook over and noticed the logo on the back for the first time.
Later that week I was reading in my Bible and came across Isaiah 58:10, which I didn't know is the inspiration and vision for noonday. And, when I shared this scripture with Kristen, she told me she had come across a scripture in Psalms that very morning which used the word noonday. She also told me she had decided to become an ambassador. I was so excited! I was hoping that was where this was all leading.
However, what I didn't expect was that it would soon lead to me signing up as well. I'll be the first to admit I'm a sucker for direct sales parties. I love going, I love playing games to win tickets to try and win a door prize, I always want to spend my $60 (or whatever the limit is) to get a free/discounted product, and I rarely decline an invite. But. I hate the push of direct sales. I hate being asked repeatedly if I want to host parties or become a consultant - it's just not my gig. However, this one is just different for me. I believe in the mission so much and I am so excited to spread the word about fair trade and empowering people globally. Amazing how a different perspective changes your view on something, like direct sales. I am just excited to share this amazing company and these beautiful and unique products.
I don't plan to push this like a true sales person would, but I do hope to make an impact and succeed with it. If you would like more information about hosting a trunk show, ordering products, or partnering with Noonday please let me know! When I do host parties I may post links in case people want to attend but can't, and I'm sure I'll write about the journey as it is definitely not in my wheel house. I'm excited for the growth! as always, I am so thankful to have people on this journey with me and helping me grow along the way. I will obviously never understand the evil in this world, and I'll never know what caused the terrorists to attack Burkina Faso when they did. I also will never know, at least in this life, the full picture of God's plan in having us there that day. I do know, though, that Kristen and I would likely have never had that conversation if our trip had gone as planned. And while the trip wasn't what we wanted, I know that there were so many things God intended to do through it all and despite it all.
If you're interested, check out
Www.noondaycollection.com/AmandaWallis
This month is the end of season sale so a lot of items are discounted. And if you see me in pictures or in person with cute and unique jewelry, chances are its Noonday! Ask me :)
Jun 8, 2016
What. A. Dog.
My Sweet Layla Girl,
Everyone knows dogs can't live forever. But, somehow, I was just kind of hoping you would.
I often think of you as the start of a love story, you know. In 2003 you were living with Cici (you remember; the one who spoiled you like none other) because Dada was living in the barracks. She went on a vacation and needed a dog sitter, so I spent a week taking care of you. That was the spark that reignited an interest in me for Dada, and the rest is history. Maybe you sparked my interest in him, or maybe I actually just used him to get to you. We'll never really know, will we?
You've been with us since the beginning. You've been with us every step of the way. You were the mediator between 2 cats who were learning to live together when we bought our first home. You were gentle and loving when we brought out first baby home, and despite the tail-jerks and face-slaps you never got tired or annoyed by our growing family. You comforted me and protected me when Dada was in Afghanistan; you even woke me up to let me know there were some hooligans at the corner of our backyard at 3am. You crammed your big ol' body in the back of our cars for all of our road trips, and you were the sweetest dog to Mimi when we stopped at her house along the way. I don't even know if Mimi liked dogs, but she loved you, "Leasle".
You made the trek from Texas to Colorado more than your fair share of times, and then made the long haul to the west coast. You watched William grow, and loved every stage of his development (probably the stage immediately following tail-pulling the most). Then you welcomed another Wallis baby with an open heart...and...whoops, one more. Your patience never wore thin and you have loved those kids more than I knew a dog could.
I wish I could say, with honesty, that there's nothing in the world you loved more than a Wallis baby - but too many know that to not be true. Let's get real. You loved yourself some bread. Hot dog buns anyone? You loved yourself some accidentally-left-out snacks(pizza, Corinne?) You could throw back a 10lb brisket and chocolate chip cookie brownies better than I've ever seen. You had a stomach of steel - truthfully, our pride almost outweighed our annoyance. We almost thought you had met your match and we'd lose you to a whole, cooked rotisserie chicken (bones and all!) You even shocked us by surviving that one, though! In fact, over the last 5 years people were very weary of dog sitting for fear you may die on their watch.
But no, not you, Layla. You stuck it out. Then, when you heard you could make your way back to Killeen you stuck it out even stronger. "One final victory lap before I go," you thought. This is where your journey started, and you were pretty hell-bent that this was where it was going to end. You made it, Layla. You made it home.
My heart is going to break a little bit every time I open that door and don't see your face there to greet us. A piece of me will cry when I put the kids to bed and don't see you standing guard outside their doors. I'll even hurt the first time I realize I don't have to hide my fresh baked goods in the microwave to protect them from you. You have been with us every step of the way, and I can't imagine you not being here as we continue to make this place home. And now you are finally pain free.
You may have been Austin's dog, but you were very much my companion and I hope you know my heart hurts for you. We gave you some extra treats, a little party, and lots of extra love today. We painted your paw prints so we will always have you in our home. And, I hope you know, we sobbed as we let you go. Even though we've gotten busier and you've gotten slower, nothing has changed the fact that we love you more than words can even say. You are a part of this family. Everyone says this, but I know it's true when it's about you: you're one for the record books. You're the best of the best. They say all dogs go to Heaven, Layla, but I don't know for sure if that's true. One thing I do know, though, is they've got a spot up there for you.
Now go run through those pearly gates. Run like your hips don't hurt. Run like you don't have a tumor. And go enjoy a feast of chicken, brisket, and hamburger buns then indulge in some brownies for dessert. Thanks for taking such good care of us, and thanks for being so hard to let go.
Everyone knows dogs can't live forever. But, somehow, I was just kind of hoping you would.
I often think of you as the start of a love story, you know. In 2003 you were living with Cici (you remember; the one who spoiled you like none other) because Dada was living in the barracks. She went on a vacation and needed a dog sitter, so I spent a week taking care of you. That was the spark that reignited an interest in me for Dada, and the rest is history. Maybe you sparked my interest in him, or maybe I actually just used him to get to you. We'll never really know, will we?
You've been with us since the beginning. You've been with us every step of the way. You were the mediator between 2 cats who were learning to live together when we bought our first home. You were gentle and loving when we brought out first baby home, and despite the tail-jerks and face-slaps you never got tired or annoyed by our growing family. You comforted me and protected me when Dada was in Afghanistan; you even woke me up to let me know there were some hooligans at the corner of our backyard at 3am. You crammed your big ol' body in the back of our cars for all of our road trips, and you were the sweetest dog to Mimi when we stopped at her house along the way. I don't even know if Mimi liked dogs, but she loved you, "Leasle".
You made the trek from Texas to Colorado more than your fair share of times, and then made the long haul to the west coast. You watched William grow, and loved every stage of his development (probably the stage immediately following tail-pulling the most). Then you welcomed another Wallis baby with an open heart...and...whoops, one more. Your patience never wore thin and you have loved those kids more than I knew a dog could.
I wish I could say, with honesty, that there's nothing in the world you loved more than a Wallis baby - but too many know that to not be true. Let's get real. You loved yourself some bread. Hot dog buns anyone? You loved yourself some accidentally-left-out snacks(pizza, Corinne?) You could throw back a 10lb brisket and chocolate chip cookie brownies better than I've ever seen. You had a stomach of steel - truthfully, our pride almost outweighed our annoyance. We almost thought you had met your match and we'd lose you to a whole, cooked rotisserie chicken (bones and all!) You even shocked us by surviving that one, though! In fact, over the last 5 years people were very weary of dog sitting for fear you may die on their watch.
But no, not you, Layla. You stuck it out. Then, when you heard you could make your way back to Killeen you stuck it out even stronger. "One final victory lap before I go," you thought. This is where your journey started, and you were pretty hell-bent that this was where it was going to end. You made it, Layla. You made it home.
My heart is going to break a little bit every time I open that door and don't see your face there to greet us. A piece of me will cry when I put the kids to bed and don't see you standing guard outside their doors. I'll even hurt the first time I realize I don't have to hide my fresh baked goods in the microwave to protect them from you. You have been with us every step of the way, and I can't imagine you not being here as we continue to make this place home. And now you are finally pain free.
You may have been Austin's dog, but you were very much my companion and I hope you know my heart hurts for you. We gave you some extra treats, a little party, and lots of extra love today. We painted your paw prints so we will always have you in our home. And, I hope you know, we sobbed as we let you go. Even though we've gotten busier and you've gotten slower, nothing has changed the fact that we love you more than words can even say. You are a part of this family. Everyone says this, but I know it's true when it's about you: you're one for the record books. You're the best of the best. They say all dogs go to Heaven, Layla, but I don't know for sure if that's true. One thing I do know, though, is they've got a spot up there for you.
Now go run through those pearly gates. Run like your hips don't hurt. Run like you don't have a tumor. And go enjoy a feast of chicken, brisket, and hamburger buns then indulge in some brownies for dessert. Thanks for taking such good care of us, and thanks for being so hard to let go.
You have my heart,
Mommy
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